365 Days Without You
by Tragic Disposition
Summary: The sea green eyes had closed and all that's left is memories. Annie can't help remembering, retracing the steps that they took. The days after the demise of Finnick Odair from Annie's point of view. "Finnick, you've never left right? You can't have left me. But you did. I'm so confused, Finnick." 365 days without you, and after that, who knows?
1. Dear Finnick

**PROLOGUE**

Dear Finnick,

You've been gone for two weeks now. I don't think I've been coping well. Peeta sent me to a therapist to help me forget, I think he's the only one who cares. He sent me to the therapist the minute Gale returned telling us that you were dead. They think I'm crazy, they always thought I was crazy, didn't they? Did you think I was crazy? I can finally see it now. Like they're just waiting for the moment that Annie Cresta bursts. I feel like a shell, an empty shell with nothing to feel what used to be Annie Cresta except her thoughts. But I can't forget. You're all I ever think about. Your silky bronze hair that slipped so easily through my fingers, the way your smile always lights up a room, your sea green eyes that I love so much, that I always got lost in, no matter what. I can still see you, you know? How rough and strong your hands were but so incredibly delicate they were to weave the most intricate knots I never could. Finnick, they tell me to forget. They think it's helping me. They whisper behind my back. _Annie Cresta. Annie Cresta. Annie Cresta. The girl who's gone mad._

But do you want to know something, Finnick? You're impossible to forget. And I don't want to forget.

Of course they're worried about me. I'm even worried about me. Am I going crazy? Was I always crazy? I remember you once said to me, how can you be crazy when you're asking yourself if you're crazy? Finnick, that never answered my question. How can you leave me without ever giving me a straight answer?

My therapist is worried about me as well, that's why he handed me this journal, so that I can write down my "innermost" thoughts. I don't like him. He has the lightest eyes, almost like a blind man's and he never talks about you. Every time I mention your name he gets angry. I don't know why. He thinks you're bad for me. Oh correct me if you will, he thinks you _were_ bad for me. But you've never left Finnick, right? You can't have left me. But you did. I'm so confused, Finnick. My therapist said you left me. I don't know what to think anymore. You promised, Finnick.

I don't really know what to write, Finnick, you've always been the one who could say anything and express it so perfectly that nobody ever questioned you. Peeta has a way with words too, he reminds me of you a bit, but he'll never be you. Katniss, Peeta, Johanna, Beetee, they'll never replace you. You can count on that Finnick.

I'm supposed to give him this every week to read it over, and I just feel so weird giving it to him. Most of my thoughts revolve around you, so I guess that's why he wants to read it over, to make sure I'm handling everything well.

But to be honest, I'm not. And yes I'm fairly aware he will read this. But he along with everybody else things I'm about to crack, so I don't think I care anymore. And honestly, the truth has got to come out sooner or later, doesn't it Finnick? He never specifically told me what to write, but just that I have to write. Well isn't that lovely? That's what you used to say Finnick. Finnick, can you hear me?

So, I'm writing to you. I hope you don't mind. I want you to know how I've coped with the whole thing. The whole thing being you leaving me. I still don't believe you left me.

I'm going to tell you how it's been without you here with me, without your swirling sea green eyes fixed on me every day, without your hand to hold, without your smile, without you. How I feel all day every day will be written down in here. I promised I will cope, Finnick. And I'm going to keep that promise. And you're going to see me keep that promise, and you're going to smile at me, and ... Finnick. Stay with me will you? I'm going to write down everything that has happened, and most importantly, everything I've thought since the day you may or may not have left me. Starting from day one.

It's therapy after all isn't it, Finnick?

**A.N. What do you think? Want to read more? This is my first the Hunger Games fanfiction so I'm not sure...**

**Should I continue? If I get 3 reviews, I'll continue. Please tell me what you think, I really would like to know.**

**Sugar cubes to everybody who reviews!**

**Lots of love, **

**Jess.**


	2. Suspended In Time

**1 month earlier**

Annie closed her eyes in despair and hit her head repeatedly on the stone cold walls, damp with … water? Most likely from the cell beside hers. Forcing every damned muscle to comply, she used every strength in her body to crawl up to the entrance of her cell, to find trails of water trickling by.

But before she could even question the water trailing by in veins, a stark contrast to the dirty, blood crusted floor, a shell-shocking scream emitted from the cell besides hers. Annie gripped tightly onto the bars, knuckles white with pressure. Lengths of inky black hair followed by a gush of clean water, slowly washing away the fresh blood on the ground before her cell.

Johanna Mason.

Annie retreated back to the corner of her stark white stone cell, just like covered with traces of blood that could never be washed away. However, placed carefully on these walls with precision were pictures, images that tortured her day and night. From a distance, looking just plain white, but close up, you could just tell apart the flecks of snow that dusted the surface, the vibrant red blood marring the perfect snow. Images of torn off limbs tortured her mind, hurtling weapons followed by the sharp swish of a blade cutting the air, the beheaded head of her district partner slowly freezing on the arctic floor. Her Hunger Games.

Curling up into a ball, she wished the thoughts to go away, splotches of vivid red blood appearing at the fringes of her mind. Shouts could be heard a few cells down, followed by blundering movements and inexplicable sounds of pain.

Finnick appeared clearly in her mind, covered with gashes, oozing blood, trickling down in clumps to the floor. A floor covered by all those who had died, a pile, heaped upon one another, crusted blood and rotting flesh. She'd soon be added to the pile, along with everybody else.

She took a harsh breath, rocking herself to sleep, as the cold arctic wind of her Hunger Games blew almost too real against her skin, snow flecks landing on her face which was already too cold to melt the flakes.

**4 weeks earlier**

Annie closed her eyes tight, blocking out the screams of Johanna and muffled shouts of Peeta along with the ear splitting sound of metal on metal occurring above the cells. She didn't want to know what was happening. Closing her eyes, she ran a hand absentmindedly across a jagged cut on her arm, wondering how it appeared, the distinct smell of rust and salt on her fingertips.

Soft footfalls could be heard on the cold, echoing floor along with harsh whispers.

Before she could retreat back into her corner, a hard-worn face, barely what you'd call tanned, stared intently at her through the bars of her cell. She let out a soft cry before the man's rough yet oddly smooth hands gripped her hand through the bars.

"Shh," he murmured softly, "We need to get out of here now. Annie is it?"

She nodded silently, eyeing the kindness in his eyes, soft brown of the woods.

"Annie, I need you to listen." He paused for a moment as Gale walked by with a shivering Johanna Mason on his shoulder. "Annie," his concentration reverted back towards her. "I need you to listen to me," he said with no time for her to answer. "I'm going to get you out of here. Okay? Once the doors open, run. Run. As fast as you can. Get out of here. You'll find yourself at an intersection. Take the left, it's been busted out for you. Even if you see people falling, don't stop running. Annie, I'm going to let you out now. Do you understand me? Run."

His hand paused at the key pad, ready to key in the code.

Annie was shivering, her entire body rocking, the fresh blood speckling the pure, white snow, the unmoving bodies, the moon glinting wickedly on the reflective snow.

He took a break before keying in the code. The minute the bars opened, a screeching could be heard. Something wild, something very much alive and something very much wanting her, them, dead.

"Annie! Run!" The man shouted.

Heart thudding painfully in her throat, she forced her entire body to a standing position and ran as fast as she could, legs opening as far as they could go, not daring to look back for the man. With her bare feet thudding the floor, she skidded to a halt to find Gale collapsed in a heap on the wall, fresh, slick blood spilling profusely out of the wound on his arm as Peeta walked on forwards, calmly. Annie looked in torture before a pair of arms grabbed her painfully. She struggled briefly before turning around swiftly to hit the attacker but instead found the soft eyes of the man. Letting out a sigh a relief, he grabbed her wrist and pulled her along, forcing her limbs to move, skidding along until they were out in the open, defenceless, with no weapon in her hand. Exactly like what happened in the Games. Closing her eyes, she forced the torturous memories away, the soft padding of a victor in a fight with their smooth gait, crunching on the near solid snow.

Her eyes opened manically, almost crazed, searching for any form of weapon, the man's warm hand still wrapped firmly on her wrist. And before she could push him away, a current froze her in place forcing her upwards, as the man let go of her wrist apologetically.

Once on the hovercraft, she forced herself to get a grip on her surroundings, however before she could let out a scream of terror at the sight of over flowing blood on a wound on a woman's leg, a syringe found her instead.

Annie woke up later to find the hovercraft in chaos, with more nurses hurrying around, used bandages still littered on the floor however in more of a state of conduct. The man with the soft brown eyes was nowhere to be seen and her heart ached painfully as it did every time she woke up. Observing her surroundings carefully, she realised she couldn't hear the telltale hum of the hovercraft, only the steady beating of a heart monitor.

Sitting up straight, she found looked to her right, and lying on a lumpy hospital bed, was what looked to be Gale Hawthorne. Well, from what she could tell from that distorted grimace placed on his face.

Closing her eyes she sighed. She was in a hospital. A hospital. Away from Snow? Why couldn't they let her die already. Life was already too much of a torture.

Eyes shut, she let the steady, even beeping of heart monitors lull her to a state of subconciousness.

She could hear the panicked screams of a familiar voice yelling for Gale and Peeta, penetrating the thick barrier between consciousness and unconsciousness. Why couldn't everything just stop for a minute? Make the world stop turning and turning, the forever revolving buzz of the rapidly spinning world, moving too fast, feeling almost as if being thrown off.

Opening her eyes just a sliver, she caught sight of a hysterical Katniss.

And a flash of that familiar, ruffled, bronze hair…

It was as if her entire body refused to listen to her mind as her body threw herself to the space between them. The gaping empty feeling aching to be filled, the pressure built up at her chest, pulling her painfully closer, inexcusably closer and away from the sinking abyss, stained blood red. It was as if nothing could pull her away, as his indistinguishable clear sea-green eyes caught hers, arms thrown open as the last few milliseconds of time they were parted from each other ticked by painfully slow. Her intrepid heartbeat caught in her throat as she skidded to a halt directly in front his distinctive fragrance and heaving chest before his remaining body collided into hers, forcing her to take a step back before the two of them fell over their own feet and gripped onto the wall in an almost giddy happiness, hands sliding up and down one another's bodies, remembering, absorbing every inch of one another as they held each other tightly, head resting delicately on her tangled mess of long dark hair.

She sighed inexplicably, breathing in deeply his familiar, warm and comforting scent as his hands finally wrap tightly around her waist, warm, rough but delicate enough to fashion the most intricate knots. Her entire body shuddered as she buried her nose deeply into his neck, gently kissing his collarbone, the desperate pressure deep in her chest relaxed each time she and him breathed out however built painfully tight every time they took another breath. Her hands found his rumpled hair and absentmindedly twirled a few strands at the base of his neck.

Finnick's hands feverishly rubbed her sides and arms as he fought to control his trembling arms before barely resting them on her hips, letting out a long overdue breath of relief. Her sweet fragrance of granny smith apples overpowered his senses. He was completely and utterly _hers_, merely a body without her.

"Annie," he murmured softly as she left trailing kisses on his collarbone.

Looking up languidly she let out a small sigh of relief as her eyes fixed on his shining sea green orbs, swirling like a tidal wave in the spring.

"Annie, oh god," Finnick gasped out as he grabbed her hips and lifted her up, spinning her around and around, her hair falling wildly as her face shone with such indescribable ecstasy, oblivious to the spectators surrounding them.

Letting her down, he pushed her up once again up against the wall to madly find her lips.

Annie gasped as his lips savagely claimed hers, grinding his hips into hers, pressing her tightly against the walls of the hospital. One hand was lost in the mess of her dark brown hair and the other was braced against the wall, helping both of them stay up. His lips moved roughly against hers as the hunger deep in the pit of his stomache build up painfully, instead of being sated, with each passing second the feral hunger climbed higher and higher. His tongue gently flicked at her bottom lip for access which she gladly granted as he explored her mouth. It was almost as if his body was being possessed, moving freely for his own pleasure. His tongue fought with hers for control in which she quickly relinquished it to him with a small whimper of compliance. He shivered as she submitted to him.

Annie struggled to keep up with Finnick's ferocity, clinging to his shirt and complimenting the movements of his lips and tongue barely in a dance where he was clearly the leader.

_It had been too long_, Finnick thought as he desperately kissed her lips over and over again. He moved back an inch to observe her expression, her long lashes fluttering open to gaze lazily at his.

He moved back to kiss her swollen lips gently before noticing their surroundings, idly moving the hand that had been gripping her hips to her hair.

"Finnick," she breathed. He eyed her with eyes dark with lust. He'd missed the way she said his name, she was finally back to him, and all the pain and torture, and every single inch of self guilt and pity was finally slipping off him.

"Annie," he murmured, eyes fixed against hers, suspended in time.

**AN. Hoped you like! Okay now here's a little dilemma. I don't know how to continue on from here. Either to just start off with the 365 days of journal entries if you liked first person, or still do the 365 days (since that's what the story is basically about) but give flashbacks of second person like this chapter.**

**Tell me what you think! I'm still not quite sure if I should continue seeing as I got a C in my English essay and semester 1 report for not being fucking formal enough.**

**Please tell me, I actually legit don't know what to do from here. And I do really want to write about them... you know ... doing the nasty, but I could write that with another fic.**

**Tell me what you think please. I won't continue if I don't get up to 8 reviews for this story because I'm not quite sure if I should really invest in this.**

**xoxo jess.**


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